Superhero's Don't Have ID
by OnlyANorthernSong
Summary: Well, Superheros don't have I.D. Not even Flash. Who might be a tiny bit underage.


Hi! I'm having a bit of boredom with the stories I'm writing (sry) so I'm taking a break until I get interested again. I found this story, liked it, and threw it up on here. I can't edit it very much (my dad is telling me I have to get off the internet, even though my brother just gave it to me, like, twenty minutes ago...) Anyways, this is random, and I hope you like it. Sorry if you don't. I'll try to update some of my other stories soon.

Don't forget to remember John Lennon next Monday! (12/8/08)

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THE BEGINNING

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"Does it start with a J?" John asked.

"Nope." The Green Lantern and The Flash were patrolling the quiet city; actually quite slowly, since there wasn't much to do. As they were walking, John wondered aloud what Flash's name was. So, they started a guessing game. John was allowed as many questions as he wanted, but he was already tiring of it, having asked whether Flash's name started with A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I and J. Flash was still grinning at him.

"K?"

"Nope."

"L?"

"Nope.

"M?!"

"Nope."

"_N_?!"

"Nope- and you sound like you're getting tired of this game." John suddenly smiled.

"That means I'm close, right?"

"I guess you were closer then you were before..." Flash replied with a shrug.

"O?"

"No."

"P?"

"Q?"

"R?"

"S?"

"T?"

"U? Come on- what's your name?!" Flash shrugged.

"Okay. How about we do this with my last name?" John nodded, while Flash hid a smirk.

"A?"

"Nope- hey...I've never been to this place; wanna go?" A squat building on the side of the road, painted a light burgundy, sat before them, an electrical OPEN sign flickering.

"You're hungry? Didn't we just eat?"

"Duh- like an hour ago. I'm starved. Come on." Flash headed towards the building, and John, with a shrug, followed him into the restaurant. Inside, it had dull yellow walls, and tables with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. Those inside included a motorcyclist with a long, winding beard, a short, pudgy woman with curly red hair and a name tag that started _Marge_, and a tall man behind the bar with curly brown hair and winkles. Flash smiled and gave John a thumbs up. "You guys still open?"

"The Flash!" The woman, Marge, shrieked in a nasally New York accent. "Come in, come in, sit down, sit down!" Flash smiled, and nodded at John to sit. The woman bustled over with a notepad. "And what'll you have?" Flash smiled as he looked down at the menu.

"How about two pizzas, and a hamburger?"

"What size pizza- what topping?" There was awe in her voice.

"Um- extra-large...and all the toppings. Plus some sprinkles."

"Sprinkles?"

"Never mind."

"And to drink?"

"A milkshake, coke, and whatever dark beer you have on draft." John noticed his voice changed slightly when he ordered the beer. The woman turned to John, who made his order of some french fries and a coke, then rushed off to the kitchen.

"How old are you?" John inquired. Flash nearly jumped five feet.

"Why do you ask?" His voice was high-pitched.

"Why do you sound so nervous?" John countered. Flash mumbled something about how Batman was rubbing off on him. John started to laugh. "Are you younger then twenty-one?" He laughed harder at Flash's abashed face.

"Superheroes don't have I.D- you can't prove that!" Flash replied. Marge had just returned with a huge pitcher of beer, which John took swiftly from Flash's side of the table.

"You're underage." He chastised, still laughing at his teammate, whose face had turned the scarlet of his costume.

"No, I'm not! I'm twenty-three!"

"Prove it."

"Prove that I'm not." Flash countered and, with help from his super-speed, grabbed the pitcher.

"Why have I never seen you drink before?" Flash blushed.

"Because I haven't done it in a while." John grabbed the beer as Flash looked ashamedly out the window.

"That a fact?" He asked. Flash glared at him.

"YES."

"Do you swear to God that you're twenty-three?"

"Of course."

"Do you swear on Linda Park?"

"How do you know about her?!" Flash demanded, his blush deepening. John cocked an eyebrow.

"You didn't answer."

"So?" Flash retorted, savagely biting into the burger Marge had just brought over. "I don't have to tell you anything. It's none of your business."

"How old are you?"

"Okay, okay...I might be a tiny, _little _bit below the drinking age. I just wanted to try it..." John nodded.

"It's okay, man." He stood to put a comforting hand on the speedster's shoulder (planning on hitting him directly after doing so), only to realize he'd been tricked. The huge empty pitcher clattered to the floor as Flash suddenly burped, not looking well at all. "Flash?" John asked fearfully. Flash giggled.

"You're awesome, GL."

"I know. I'm gonna take your wallet and pay." Flash giggled even more. John sighed, and brainstormed as to where one could keep a wallet in a pocketless costume. He knew that Flash had money _somewhere, _but he had only seen him get cash- he had never paid attention to where he got it from.

"I'm serious- I'm serious. John- John, are you lis-listening?"

"Yea. Sure." John replied, reluctantly taking out his own wallet which carried....he sighed heavily...ten bucks. "Where's your wallet man?"

"I'm all red!" Flash exclaimed, giggling in delight.

"Yea, you are. Now...wallet?"

"Wallet. Wal-et. Wallet. Wall let. Heheheehehehe..." His eyes were drooping. John silently cursed Flash's body. How could anyone be _this _drunk _this _fast? _Damn his fast metabolism... or whatever it is that's doing this..._

"Yea, man. Where is it?"

"A penny a day keeps the doctor away!" Flash informed him with a drunken grin.

"Sure. So...the money?"

"Save your apples for a rainy day, John." Flash wisely stated. John decided a different tactic should be used.

"Lets play a game. First person to find your wallet gets a shiny penny!" A huge burst of wind slammed into John, and then he was back, clutching a leather wallet. John took it warily. "This is yours, right? Not some random guy on the street?" He opened the page, and a badge fell onto the ground. _Forensic Scientist. _John's face blanched. _He pickpocketed a cop! _He thought in horror. "Who did you take this from?" He demanded of his swaying friend, who giggled. "Flash!?"

"My table..." Flash replied with a shrug. "I left it accident by there." John cautiously opened the wallet, knowing that if, by some amazing chance, this was the Flash's wallet, he was about to see his secret identity. But Flash's fast metabolism had helped this time, and before John could even see the first letter of his name, or the picture, his face had cleared of the sluggishness it had held seconds before. "What's that?" He asked. His eyes widened behind the mask. "Is that my wallet?!"

"You JUST handed it to me." John replied, annoyed. Flash blushed as he grabbed the wallet.

"Well, give it back." They sat in semi-silence, the only noise the milkshake machine. John smirked.

"V?"

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THE END

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The fact that Flash was a forensic scientist went completely unnoticed...that's Pretty. Odd.


End file.
